You bid me try, blue-eyes, to write
A Rondeau. What! - forthwith? - tonight?
Reflect. Some skill I have, 'tis true; But thirteen lines! - and rimed on two! 'Refrain' as well. Ah, Hapless plight!
Still, there are five lines - ranged aright.
These Gallic bonds, I feared, would fright
My easy Muse. They did, till you - You bid me try!
That makes them eight. The port's in sight -
'Tis all because your eyes are bright!
Now just a pair to end in 'oo' - When maids command, what can't we do? Behold! - the rondeau, tasteful, light,
You bid me try!